Chapter 142: The Whole City Trembles! Forces from All Sides Converge on the Wuhou Shrine!

What?!

Ling Xi's words instantly shattered everyone's last mental guard.

Meng Die's complexion turned hideously pale.

She took a deep breath, forcibly suppressing the raging storm in her heart.

A thought flickered.

She tried to use the Child Gu within her body to reach the man she worships as a deity.

However.

Hiss!

A searing pain radiated from deep within her soul.

The invisible soul chain between her and Su Ming was brutally severed by that terrifying cyan‑black will!

No connection!

Meng Die's heart instantly sank to the bottom of a valley.

"What... is the master actually facing..."

She dared not think.

She had no time to think.

The commotion was far too loud!

"Everyone, listen to the order!"

Meng Die's voice was ice‑cold, without a hint of warmth.

"Set out! Prepare to block the road!"

"Regardless of who comes—be it the Official, the black market, or even that group of lunatics..."

A flash of madness flickered in her eyes.

"Stop them at any cost!"

"Until Mr. Su emerges, no one may set foot even a half‑step into the Wuhou Shrine!"

Jin Cheng, North District.

Inside the office shrouded in smoke.

A young operative hurried in.

"Chief!"

His voice trembled as he looked toward the lazy figure behind the desk.

"Wuhou Shrine... the Wuhou Shrine is in trouble!"

"We just received the footage sent back by Fengzheng!"

He trembled as he projected a photo onto the wall.

In the image, the sky above the Wuhou Shrine was half cyan, half black, eerily bizarre.

When the words fell, the office fell into dead silence.

"Heh."

A light laugh broke the heavy atmosphere.

Behind the desk, the man who had been leaning against the chair back with his feet propped on the desk slowly sat up straight.

He wore a simple black trench coat, a half‑lit cigarette dangling from his mouth, the long ash trembling as if about to fall.

Chen Beixuan!

Abnormal Affairs Management Bureau's Jin Cheng Branch chief, nicknamed Jin Cheng Bulldozer!

He flicked the ash, glanced at the unsettling image on the wall, and curled his mouth into a smile.

"Wuhou Shrine? Cyan‑black qi?"

"Is Guan Gong battling Zhang Fei?"

He stood, casually stamping out the cigarette on the desk, his black coat fluttering without a breeze.

"Tell Po Jun and those kids to bring all the gear and follow me!"

"I want to see whose head is that iron!"

"How dare they tear down a shrine on my turf?!"

……

Meanwhile, Jin Cheng, South District.

Underground casino.

The gambler reclined half‑on a golden lounge chair, his complexion ghastly pale.

In front of him, an obsidian crystal ball clearly displayed the terrifying phenomenon above the Wuhou Shrine.

"Cough... cough cough!"

Seeing the sky‑piercing cyan‑black evil aura, the old man coughed violently.

Such a commotion!

Who caused this?!

A name that made his very soul shudder suddenly surfaced in his mind.

Jing!

"He... has arrived in Jin Cheng!"

"Go!"

In the gambler's eyes, greed outweighed fear.

"Send someone to take a look!"

"Remember, only observe from a distance, no approaching!"

Besides that guy, he couldn't think of who it was!

Could he profit like a fisherman?

Wealth and honor are sought amid danger!

If that Jing were to die inside directly…

Would the huge Abyssal Credit he owed then…

be written off in one stroke?!

…

Jin City, West District.

Inside an old Sichuan opera house long closed, dust danced in the light.

In the Audience seats, a few scattered figures sat, starkly out of place amid the decay.

A young man in a hoodie lowered his head, idly twirling an ancient copper coin.

The copper coin fluttered between his fingers, leaving a afterimage.

Not far away, a woman in a scorching qipao.

She was slowly wiping a gleaming Bone-slicing Knife with a silk handkerchief.

In deeper shadows, an elderly man perched with his legs crossed, humming a discordant Sichuan opera tune.

He cradled two walnuts in his hand, creaking.

Western Shu Rogue!

Clang—!

A high-pitched gong rang, piercing the theater's dead silence without warning.

On the empty stage.

The old backdrop painted with landscapes was suddenly splashed with thick ink.

Blue and black spread wildly, infecting everything.

In the end, it outlined two towering, dignified eyes.

The young man playing with the copper coin froze.

The coin fell, landing steadily on his fingernail.

He lifted his head and curled his lip.

"Sigh, another stale couplet play, Lord Guan versus Lord Zhang?"

"It's been sung for a thousand years, it's lost its vigor."

"Heh heh heh…"

The qipao woman wiping the knife let out a string of bell‑like laughter, her eyes icy and piercing.

"Little brother, you can't speak like that."

"I actually think the play's characters are well made up, just a bit lacking in killing aura."

"No blood—what kind of good play is that?"

"Sheng, Dan, Jing, Mo, Clown, gods, tigers, dogs."

From the shadows, the walnut‑cradling elder spoke slowly, his voice hoarse.

"Those who sing go onto the stage, those who watch take their seats…"

"But the ones below the stage are even more eager to snatch the limelight than those above."

His words just fell.

A figure slowly emerged from the darkest corner.

On its face it wore a blank mask with no features, revealing no emotion.

It stepped to the stage, drew a tiny silk pouch from its sleeve, and opened it.

A colorful butterfly, its wings no more than an inch wide yet dazzling, fluttered out of the pouch.

As its wings beat, specks of phosphorescence scattered.

"Let's go."

A voice that could not be placed as male or female, nor age, came from beneath the blank mask.

"Go see how many characters this play truly has."

"Also see how this butterfly can stir the water."

The dazzling butterfly flew toward the outside of the theater.

Where it passed, the few figures in the Audience seats vanished like dust blown away by wind.

Only the coin perched on the fingernail remained; it clinked and fell to the ground.

Jin City, many factions.

At this moment, they acted in unison.

Target: Wuhou Shrine!

Wuhou Shrine.

Su Ming, bearing a Han flag, was pondering a plan, making final preparations for entry.

But suddenly, a fierce wind howled, murderous aura soaring to the heavens!

"Huh?!"

Su Ming was startled.

Why did such a huge uproar suddenly break out?

He…

He heard the dragon's chant and the tiger's howl!

"What's going on?"

The Eye of Truth went berserk.

"Sss!"

Through the mist, he saw!

Those two terrifying, unmatched phantoms seemed to clash, and began a brutal fight!

"How could this happen?!"

Su Ming's mind and spirit were violently shaken.

How could those two sworn brothers, heroes whose bond was stronger than gold, possibly kill each other?!

Their brotherly loyalty has been a celebrated tale for a thousand years, a benchmark of loyalty in countless hearts!

"Damn!"

Su Ming clenched both fists, his eyes flashing.

We can't wait any longer!

If this drags on, those two will probably blow each other up!

He doesn't want to see that ending!

Su Ming stopped hesitating, frantically grabbing items from the Dimensional Reduction Warehouse.

Overlord Helmet!

Pride Pendant!

Lingren Score!

Reverse Tongue!

But that's still not enough!

All the wearable items he won from the Fate Casino were taken out.

Heart-protecting Mirror engraved with mountains and rivers!

Arm Armor infused with wind and thunder!

Jet-black Cloak woven from countless resentful soul threads!

He wrapped himself up tightly!

Finally, he hoisted the Han Flag.

Under the Lingren Score, his eyes held no hesitation.

He launched in his strongest form, stepping forward!

"All or nothing!"